Consulting Gravity
by UniversalMadnessDefined6
Summary: When Molly decides enough is enough and stands up for herself, her anger leads her into the arms of Jim Moriarty. The downside, she gets a surprise present in the form of a poison. Guaranteed to end her life within two months, Sherlock must play by Moriarty's rules or lose the one person who considered him to be a good man. The game is on. Eventual Sherlolly. Some angst.
1. Chapter 1

"Set me free, leave me be. I don't want to fall another moment into you're gravity."

The soft melody echoed from Molly's lips as she began to work on a new body. Her voice was bouncing off the walls, so taken was she by the music that she didn't hear the door open and two pairs of feet step inside.

Her voice cracked as she remembered that horrible night on Christmas, where Sherlock had managed to throw everything she'd done for him straight back into her face. Her ear buds were firmly in place, as she closed her eyes reaching the chorus yet again. A slight tear trickling down her face as she belted it out one more time.

She would change she thought to herself, she would make sure that she was her own woman and that she didn't take any more slack from Sherlock or anyone else for that matter. It was time for Molly Hooper to stop being the mouse, and start being the lioness.

"Set me free, leave me be, I don't want to fall another moment into you're gravity. Here I am, understand. So tall just the way that I'm supposed to be." Her voice gave out slightly as she reached the end.

Zipping up the body, she wiped her tears slyly, the dim lights of the morgue, casting a luminous shadow on her and making her appear other worldly. Silently she trekked back to the closet to grab her bags and coat.

The two men who had come in were too stunned to move, not believing what they had just witnessed. John had his mouth wide open, his eyes were brimmed with the slight trace of a tear, which his manhood would not let him succumb to. Sherlock had his eyes firmly on the place where Molly had gone. Never had he felt anything like this, he'd just wanted to hold her to him. A feeling of hot shame washed over Sherlock, as he thought of all the times he had been less than kind to Molly.

Not once, had she ever called him a freak, and yet he had willingly made her feel like one.

"Sherlock?" John whispered, motioning for them to leave. He felt as though he'd stumbled upon a private showing. He didn't think even Molly understood what she had just done.

"Sherlock" John urged, tugging on the sleeve of his jacket. But he wouldn't budge, his feet carried him forward to where Molly had gone.

"Oh for the love of god" John muttered to himself, he really didn't want Sherlock to upset Molly, she seemed fragile enough as it was.

A haze was covering Sherlock's mind as he swept past John, he just felt lifted, it was as though that performance had been a cocaine relapse.

"AAARGH!" Molly screamed, throwing her bag at the two figures that were approaching her. Blindly waving her arms around she managed to hit one of them in the face the slight UFF making her proud of herself. It wasn't until, she heard the amused whisper of Sherlock did she raise a hand to her mouth.

"Oh, my god!" Scrambling forwards she picked him up off the floor with the assistance of John. Her auburn hair spilling all over Sherlock's face. Strawberry and Peach, Sherlock observed his nose getting slightly too attached to the smell.

"Oh god Sherlock." Molly worried, her fingers quick to find some gloves and put them on. Swabbing the bruised part above his lip she quickly wiped the blood away, her intense gaze doing everything to look anywhere but at him.

Huffing she put a plaster on him before swivelling back around to the both of them. The redness in her cheeks unmistakable.

"What on earth were you thinking? You can't just come here at," pausing she looked at her watch. "1.00! In the morning, and scare the hell out of me!"

Sherlock looked on baffled, as Molly showed this rare sign of anger towards him. Even John had a fairly impressed look on his face,

"Well, John and I we-"

"No, save it Sherlock. You wanted to ask my permission to let you stay and work until my supervisor came. Or until I finally decided to say no" Sherlock nodded as a sad look came over Molly's face. "Is that all I am to you, just an object to exploit for whatever purpose you want. I am human Sherlock," Molly barrelled on, unaware of the surprised look on Sherlock's face and the saddened one on John's. "I'm not yours Sherlock, and I deserve to be treated with some respect!"

Hurling past them, she grabbed her coat off the table slamming the door on her way out.

"She's right you know Sherlock." John whispered, his hands gripping the table. "She's the only one who actually argues back when anyone say anything about you."

Surprise took Sherlock again for the second time that night. He never knew Molly defended him, much less thought that he saw her as an object. Granted he did use her lab a lot but Sherlock thought that they had come to an agreement with it.

"For being such a clever man Sherlock, you really are insensitive." John finished before following Molly out on her exit.

"I never knew." Sherlock muttered to himself more than anyone. To think that mousy Molly Hooper even thought that he was capable of being a human being and much less loving him for it. That burning feeling of shame washed over Sherlock again, for once he could actually admit he had done something wrong. But for now he needed to go home and muddle through his mind palace.

Human he muttered to himself. None had ever thought he was before, a sad smile tugged on his lips as he left Bart's Hospital.

Molly hurried down the darkened roads of London, her eyes were overflowing with tears and that burning sensation of guilt was hitting her. God she hated herself sometimes. She'd finally grown a backbone and now she was feeling guilty for standing up to Sherlock. If anything she should be mentally high fiving herself.

Her breathing slowed down as she leant against a road, there weren't much people on the street at this time. Looking around Molly realised she was on a deserted road the only sign a pub which seemed to be blasting 90's music.

Great Molly thought, not only was she in the middle of nowhere she had forgotten her phone as well.

"Stupid Sherlock, stupid, stupid, stupid Sherlock." Her words were punctuated by the banging of her fists on the brick wall.

"Miss?" A worried voice asked the tone light and eerily familiar.

Molly placed her hand on her racing "Sorry, you scared me" Molly began. "I'm sorry agai-"

"Oh, it's no problem little Molly Hooper."

"Jim?" Her voice squeaked out, her night was just getting progressively better.

"It's actually James Moriarty little Molly, but for the sake of sentimentality, oh how I do love that old thing." He mocked gliding her face with his cold fingers.

Think Molly think, her mind was racing as she realised she had no means of defending herself at all.

"I couldn't help but overhear your slandering of Sherlock, rather surprised I must say," Moriarty mused his fingers never leaving her face. "Quiet done idolising him, you see he never really appreciated you did he Molly."

Gritting her teeth Molly pushed Moriarty's hands off of her. "At least he never lied to me!"

Moriarty's laugh was all the response she got, before she felt a needle pierce her throat. The only sounds coming out of her mouth were shocked splutters.

Moriarty gave a sad smile as he finished injecting the liquid into Molly Hooper.

"We could have been special, you and I, little Molly." Those words were the last that Molly heard before the darkness surrounded her.

Her last thought. That damned consulting detective.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey guys! Sorry for the wait. I very stupidly decided to upload this the week before I went back to school. I know, stupid so yay to my logic! Hopefully you'll like this chapter and I'm planning a lot of things for this story so stick around! I beg you!**

Dizziness overtook Molly as she felt a sharp sting on her arm. The whitewashed walls of Bart's greeted her, coming with the realisation that she was all alone.

"Did you expect any less, Mousy Molly…." The voice of Moriarty penetrated her thoughts, floating with it the whole night's events. Sharp pinpricks of pain shot up her head as she remembered the argument with Sherlock and the reminder that Moriarty still owned her.

"Ahhh Molly." A cheery voice popped up, "Glad to see you awake!" The doctor said writing furiously on his clipboard as he buzzed about Molly.

"Nice to see you too Derrick" Molly replied, pulling the covers closer to her body. "Say, how long have I been in here?" She asked, the scared tone belying the poker expression on her face.

"Bout 4 hours," the Doctor answered. "Listen Molls, if you want me to do anything for you ring yeah?" The concerned tone made Molly smile. Derick and her had worked together as part of her training course during her first few weeks in Bart's.

He was without a doubt the cheeriest person she knew. _Well you wouldn't know many would you thought Morbid Molly_ a voice reminded her in her head.

"Thanks Derick, I'll be sure to call if I feel any pains." With that the white cloak of Derrick the Doctor disappeared out of the door with a quick wave.

Swinging her legs off the bed, Molly stopped as she saw the reason for the stinging in her arm.

Inked on her skin were the words, _Stories change lives_. The dainty red bow not giving away the malevolent intent on the tattoo. Her heart was pounding as she realised she had no idea what happened between the time she got attacked, and her waking hours.

Hopelessness settled in on Molly, she was so sick of being used but now she just felt pathetic. I wish I'd never met Sherlock or John or any of them, they hadn't even bothered checking on her she thought bitterly.

"Molly!" A breathless Lestrade barrelled through the door, his phone was pressed tightly against his ear.

"Oh thank god." A sigh of relief passed through his lips before he realised he was still on the phone. "Yeah, she's fine John, she's fine."

Molly looked on baffled as she watched Lestrade collapse onto the chair his eyes still trained on her.

"Gre-"

"Mol-"

They both looked at each other sheepishly, before Molly motioned for him to carry on.

"Moriarty sent Sherlock a text message saying he had managed to shoot one of his birds down." Molly cringed at the referral to her as a bird. "So then Sherlock told John to go out and fix it, which meant John called me and bloody hell Molly! You gave us all quiet a scare."

"But I've been here for the past 4 hours Greg, why did you guys only get this now?"

Lestrade fumbled with his coat, as his cheeks began to gather a red tinge. "Well you see, Sherlock.. well that is.. he, you know Sherlock Molly."

_Yes I know Sherlock all too well Greg_, Molly thought. The emptiness threatening to overtake her again. So he had known but decided she was not worth the rush. Molly preferred the slimy feeling of Moriarty's hand on her throat to this cruel pain that seemed to be gripping her heart.

Nodding her head at Lestrade she motioned that she was fine, unable to get the lie out at the moment.

The worried look on his face didn't waver as he continued with his monologue. "Well, Mrs Hudson says she's got a nice warm cuppa ready for you, and John should be here in a bit Molly." He quietly finished, realising that he should've kept that titbit about Sherlock to himself.

"Oh John, you better hurry! And give these to Molly the poor dear." Mrs Hudson fretted, her hands already giving John the container of chocolate cake. "The poor dear will probably not want to come here after what she's been through." At this she threw a disapproving glance at Sherlock who was lying on the couch. The utterly disinterested look on his face was a dark contrast to the pace his mind was racing at.

"Oh he really is a piece of work." Mrs Hudson huffed sniffing her nose up at the Consulting Detective. "Now you go and cheer that poor girl up John, god knows chocolate is the only thing that helps these days." Another dirty look was thrown in Sherlock's direction before Mrs Hudson huffed downstairs.

"Well, don't wait up Sherlock." John called back his feet taking him across the landing.

"Oh, don't be silly John." A rather unceremonious brush past was the only explanation that John got before scrambling on to catch up with the Consulting Detective.

Silence filled the cab, as both occupants were so heavily engrossed in their thoughts. The London lights passing by in a flash and the ride becoming one of self-searching.

Cold and empty, the words described Sherlock perfectly at the moment. He had no idea what Moriarty hoped to achieve with his attack on Molly. Mousy Molly who had finally stood up to him. Molly who worked at Bart's. Molly with the incredible singing voice.

Sherlock's ears could still remember the rare opportunity it had been given, he had never felt such a freedom in both his mind and his body as he did when he heard Molly. His thoughts when first receiving the text was interest, and then the mind numbing realisation that he had left Molly thinking she was worthless to him.

The feeling of guilt seemed to be becoming an entirely too familiar notion, his feet were quicker than he as he raced up the steps to Bart's throwing the notes into the cabbies lap.

"Hold on Sherlock!" John shouted from behind him, the Consulting Detective seemed to be gripped by some ridiculous energy.

Guilt was probably hitting him at this point was the thought running through John's head.

"Well, Sherlock, can't say I'm happy to see you."Lestrade mumbled, his eyes immediately going to Molly who seemed to have just decided to turn her back on them both.

"Pleasure as always." Sherlock replied, the sarcasm in his voice evident from a mile off. His eyes were fixed on Molly who was refusing to even turn in his general direction. Annoyance quickly became the second feeling as Sherlock decided to gravitate towards the corner of the room. His eyes already dissecting the placement of everything in the room.

"John!" Definite relief could be heard in Lestrade's voice as he clapped the man on the back.

Smiling John patted him back before taking a chair towards Molly.

The confused look he was getting from Sherlock not deterring him in the least.

"Hey Moll." A scoff was heard in the corner, as Sherlock processed the nickname. "Mrs Hudson, said to eat these otherwise she'd force you to come back with me." A chuckle escaped Molly as she took the offered container. Chocolate always was a good remedy she thought, already planning a thank you note to Mrs Hudson.

"We're already working on getting Moriarty back for this, so just sit tight yeah." John consoled his eyes darting up to Sherlock.

A frown came across Sherlock's face before he remembered why they were there."Ahh yes Molly," He paused finally managing to get her to look at him.

"Were working." He finished. The frown on her face did not help him in the least. "We-

Before he could launch into a tirade, the cheerful Derrick came back his eyes darting from John to Lestrade to Sherlock. Confusion evident in his features.

"May we help you?" Sherlock asked, the crease on the doctor's shoulder, and frown lines on his forehead alerting him to the current emotion of this particular person.

"Actually, I just need to talk to Molly." The wariness in his voice was surprisingly directed at Molly and not at Sherlock.

"Yes?" Molly asked, already dreading the answer by the worried look on Derricks face.

"It's alright Derrick, they're friends." Molly explained her eyes avoiding Sherlock's gaze.

"Well, I don't know how to tell you this Moll." He began, the tight grip on his clipboard not helping Molly's anxieties.

"You have a poison in your body, I'm not sure how long it's been there." He rushed, his eyes were focused on the spot above Molly's head, firmly ignoring the shocked silence in the room.

"But can't fix it, I'm sure you can remove it." Molly squeaked, she could just feel the pity coming off of John and Greg.

"It's, it's not that simple Moll, the poison seems to only grow if we try to release it. I took a blood sample when I first came. And the only way that we could get it out is if we had the antidote."

"Name?" Sherlock's voice seemed to boom in the stillness of the room.

"Excuse me?" Derrick asked.

"The name of the poison." Sherlock punched out, his voice sounding every bit as bored as usual.

"Well that's the thing, the only name that comes up is Moriarty. I expect it's some type of wild plant or whatever but you have to understand we've never heard of it before." Derrick carried on, oblivious to the looks of shock on the occupant's faces.

"Moriarty?" John asked, "Sherlock is that what he said?"

"Sherlock!" John shouted, his loudness bringing Sherlock back to earth.

His mind was racing, why give Molly poison, why poison molly?! The question kept on circling his head the answer seemingly unreachable.

"Molly, show me your hand." Sherlock's lithe fingers gripped her arm, his eyes drawn to the inked letters on her skin.

"Thing is Moll, according to what we do know. The poison's deadly, the time limit kind." Derrick said his hands running through his hair.

Time limit. The words played a tag match in Molly's head. Time limit, she never thought she'd have to have one.

"2 Months." The ringing in Molly's ears was fast replaced by a sweeping darkness.

Her last thought. Her damned taste in boyfriend material.

**If you for some reason enjoyed this chapter ;) Please type a few words in that there box over there! If you didn't! Please tell me so I can improve, all critique is welcome, and until the next time we meet! Hopefully I'll upload during this week! Even a smiley face for a review would make me happy (I just want to hear your thoughts guys! Gosh don't make me say it out loud!) I just loved reading the reviews last time! THEY MADE MY DAY LITERALLY! xx**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey guys! Here's the Third chapter.**

"Moll, Moll, Moll" The sound of her name being called jarred Molly from the haze that seemed to fall on her. Her only thought was of the impending doom that she was going to face.

"Molly, get up. Your body figure isn't flattering enough to warrant you lying on the floor."

That jolted her up faster than anything else could. The small grunt that escaped Sherlock's mouth made her smile at John who was standing with his fist suspiciously close to Sherlock.

"Oh sod off." Her voice came out gruffer than she expected and even Sherlock was taken aback. Smiling at Derrick she quickly pulled on her shoes that were lying on the floor.

Confused the occupants of the hospital room just looked at each other with baffled expressions.

"Urm Moll," Derrick's tentative whisper cut through Molly's gathering of her belongings. "I've just told you, well that is, I've kinda, you've got a time limit Moll."

Time limit, time limit, time limit. The words circled around her head like a bad mantra. Never in a billion years did she think that she might be the one on that dark cold table, as opposed to the one handling the lifeless body.

"I'm fine Derrick, I just need to go home." Her breathy tone and forced smile was not convincing anybody. Least of all Sherlock.

"Oh for gods sake Molly, you're not going to that box of an apartment that you call a flat." Sherlock told her, his eyes glued onto the screen of his phone.

"She's not?"

"I'm not?" John and Molly both looked at each other sheepishly. Lestrade feeling a little out of his element began to usher Derrick out. "I wouldn't want to be here right now," Lestrade said patting Derrick on the back. The kind Doctor just nodded, his eyes becoming downcast as he looked at Molly again.

"You know, she's a kind woman."

Confused, Lestrade turned back to face him. The trio inside the room were chatting wildly to each other, with Sherlock still tapping on his phone.

"Molly. You know she forced the Chief here to take me on, if it wasn't for her I'd be back at the beginning with nothing to show for it but blood on my hands. I owe her everything and more." Derrick repeated, his fingers fussing with the clipboard in his hand.

"Yeah, she is." Lestrade replied, he had no answer to this sudden revelation.

Smiling Derrick just waved goodbye to Lestrade. "She's not someone who comes around too often, and she certainly doesn't deserve this."

The last sentence left Lestrade with a small feeling of regret. Had he underestimated Molly? After all she was the kind of person you'd just say hi and bye to on a Monday morning. He'd never thought that something like this would happen to her, drawn into one of Moriarty's schemes.

He'd seen and witnessed many distressing cases as an Inspector, but there were just some people who did not deserve any bad will in the world. And Molly Hooper, Lestrade was quickly realising was one of them.

The sunshine was providing an unusual heat wave in the fair city of London. Soaking it all up stood a lone figure with a book in his hand.

Passers-by were quick to ignore him, his presence not presenting any interest. Criminal Mastermind Moriarty stood in the throng of the London population his fingers ripping out a chapter in a beautifully binded book.

Scrunching up the paper he threw it away with a reverent kiss on the tip of it, his smile was not one of kindness but of the kind of malice that comes only from performing evil acts a fair few times.

"The story has begun!" He shouted, earning wary glances from the rushing people. His maniac laugh was quickly passed off as that of a street performer, but a rather seedy looking young man quickly jotted down the words Moriarty just shouted.

His feet already darting in the opposite direction. "Shezza's got to see this."

"What do you mean you're not coming?" Sherlock spat, his anger getting the better off him.

Sighing Molly continued walking her eye rolling giving John something to chuckle at.

"I'm not going to be babysat Sherlock, and certainly not by someone who doesn't even respect me." She said, the bitter side of smiling as she watched Sherlock wince.

They had left the hospital half an hour ago, with Sherlock and John moaning at her to stay with them, well John mostly. Molly Hooper was not budging, if there was one thing she wanted to be in control of, it was where she lived. The time limit on her being pushed heavily to the back of her mind. Besides she wasn't ready to forgive Sherlock yet.

"Molly, I'm not in the habit of begging, so will you just come into the cab with us." Sherlock said, his unruly hair was blowing in the wind, and the weird glances they were getting were annoying him to no end.

Taking a slightly more civil approach, John lightly placed a comforting arm on Molly's hand.

"What if you gave it a tester?" He asked, Molly raised an eyebrow, it wasn't the worst plan ever.

"Moriarty isn't exactly your regular run of the mill criminal Molly, he will hurt you if you're out there all by yourself." John reasoned, at that Molly shivered remembering the encounter she had with Moriarty that fateful two nights ago.

"Does it really matter John? Time limit remember." What was meant to come out as a light-hearted joke, came as a resigned sorrow.

Before Molly could admonish herself for reminding them, she felt Sherlock's large hands grab hers and throw her in the cab. The action jolting John from his mind.

"Baker Street." Sherlock told the cabbie, his hands still wrapped up in Molly's.

"Sherlock?" Molly asked, her heart was betraying her by beating at twice it's pace.

"Shut up, Molly Hooper." Molly closed her mouth at that, Sherlock's jaw was set in a very hard line his eyes not wavering from the back of the cabbies head.

Molly laid her head on the window of the cab, her hand still swallowed up by Sherlock, the light caress she felt from his thumb throwing any plans she had of being angry at him out of the window.

It was unfair of her to remind him and John about her time limit, although in all honesty she didn't think they'd care. Sure they might both think about her for a few days after she died, but Molly didn't think her existence in their lives warranted the kind of deep mourning that followed a beloved ones death.

The door to the cab was opened by John, as he hurried out to open the door to 221B. Swallowing, Molly followed Sherlock out before stepping into the homey flat. The hand that was holding hers was replaced with cold air. She didn't get much time to ponder that, before she felt the eager hands of Mrs Hudson leading her up the steps.

"Oh you poor dear, come on, I'll put the kettle on." Molly just nodded as she let Mrs Hudson do all the talking, the odd couple of words of oh dear and poor darling were the general consensus in Mrs Hudson's vocabulary.

Finally seated on the sofa that seemed to occupy a third of the space in the flat, Molly listened to Mrs Hudson barge on about how she would be well taken care of for the next few days.

"And if these boys bother you, Molly dear I'm just down the stairs." Mrs Hudson reassured aiming that last sentence at Sherlock.

"Alright Mrs Hudson, I think you have some ironing to do." Sherlock said, ripping the door open with unnecessary gusto.

"Not really Sherlock, I've practically done everything for today, it's been so hectic what with." Mrs Hudson trailed off before she could finish that last sentence.

"Ironing, now." Sherlock finished, smiling one last time at Molly Mrs Hudson bustled out of 221B tutting at Sherlock on her way out.

Jumping up from the armchair that he had occupied, John gave Molly a quick kiss after looking at his watch.

"I have the morning shift at the clinic tomorrow so I'll be getting a proper rest now." Nodding her head, Molly smiled reassuredly although the prospect of being alone with Sherlock wasn't particularly appealing.

John just patted her on the shoulder before walking to a door near the kitchen, the sound of it closing being quiet a sinister one in Molly's head at least.

"I have no interest in devouring you." Sherlock said, picking up his violin with disinterest.

Flustered Molly stuttered out a reply. "I don't want you to- that is, just, I never said. Oh you're such an ass sometimes Sherlock." By the end of her awkward reply Molly's face was crimson and the remnants of a chuckle were leaving Sherlock.

"It's not in my nature to eat other humans Molly, whatever else you may think of me I'm not a monster." The slow lilting melody of Mozart came from Sherlock's violin making his previous statement all the more poignant.

"I don't think you're a monster Sherlock. You act like one sometimes, but you're not a monster," The honest statement from Molly made Sherlock cease his playing.

The slight horns of London traffic were the only sounds that seemed to penetrate 221B. The light of the room casting a slight glow on Molly, her hair was swept behind her ear, and the wrinkles on her clothes would have made her unattractive had it not been for the kind smile on her face.

Sherlock felt a warm feeling in the pit of his stomach as he looked at Molly, quickly shaking it off he coughed to return some normalcy into the room.

"Thank-you Molly."

"You're not forgiven yet Sherlock, but you're getting there." Molly conceded before standing up. Her heart was doing slight somersaults but Molly was not ready to go back to being that whimpering mess that she was before.

"First door on the left, you should find a shirt and trousers on the bed." Sherlock said his fingers had resumed playing the violin as it was the only thing that he could actually control at the moment.

Nodding, Molly moved to follow his instructions the fatigue of the day was beginning to grip her now. And all she wanted was the warmth of a bed, regardless of whose it was.

"I don't believe in time limits Molly Hooper." Sherlock whispered.

The beautiful melody that Sherlock was playing following her into the bedroom, his whisper swallowed up by his music. _Even in my sleep he'll haunt me_ she thought.

Sherlock's fingers continued to absent mindedly play the violin, his mind was racing and his heart was beating faster than usual. Had it been only two days ago where the very thought of Molly Hooper was enough to make him bored. Guilt was an altogether too familiar feeling for Sherlock Holmes these days, but sadness was not one that he'd let himself get used to.

The beeping of his phone distracted him for a second as he picked it up.

A picture had been sent to him by Wiggins. "What on earth possessed me to give him my number?" Sherlock said, more to himself than anything.

The picture was slightly blurry, and looked like the chapter of a book. One sentence was placed on the paper in beautiful italic.

_Let the story begin. – JM_

**Third Chapter! Whoop. Thank-you so much for all the kind reviews I've gotten they certainly make me type faster! And all you ghost followers, would love to hear from you! So yurp things are gonna hot up very soon in 221B and the real ish is gonna be soon to follow what with Moriarty being kind of a maniac and everything! So please review this chapter and tell me what you think! And I have a French exam which I probably should have been revising for instead of writing….. but ah well right! Next chapter should be posted fairly soon, again reviews will make me churn out the chapters faster! Much love! P.S I should probably stop writing such long AN's might just put you guys off…..**


End file.
